


A Gun, A Glass, and a Smoke

by tatteredspider



Series: Vampire meets haunted Mage meets Werewolf [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, M/M, Minor Character Death, Suicidal Ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 19:05:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10883070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatteredspider/pseuds/tatteredspider
Summary: It's a certain anniversary for our resident vampire





	A Gun, A Glass, and a Smoke

**Author's Note:**

> TW for some suicidal ideation here. It's more in the past than the present but I thought I should mention it. Also, when Fenris is happy, he acts just like a giant puppy, I swear!

The room was dark but it really didn't matter, his eyes able to see with the most minimal of light since fairly young. Hawke sat at his small kitchen table and had been for hours, three very different and dangerous objects arrayed before him- a single cigarette, a full bottle of Jack Daniels, and a Browning Hi-Power 9mm pistol. There was a stillness to the air of the kitchen, as though the air hadn't moved even for a person breathing.

Hawke might have sat like that for most of the night had he not heard the sharp click of nails against the hardwood floor. As the wolf entered the room, Hawke sat up straighter, plastered a grin to his face he didn't really feel. The wolf wasn't falling for it, coming up and nuzzling the man's elbow, giving him those damned puppy eyes and softly whining. Garrett reached out and ran his fingers through soft wolf fur.

“Hey, Fenris. Did I ever tell you how I...how I became what I am?” The wolf froze under his hand for a moment, then slowly reached out his tongue to lap lightly at Hawke's hand not buried in his ruff. “That a yes? No?” Hawke chuckled darkly. “Well, maybe I'll just tell ya anyway.”

Fenris pulled back and sat on his haunches, all attention focused on Garrett. He loved when Fenris did that, focused all his attention on him when he spoke, like whatever Hawke was saying was the most important thing in the world. It almost made talking about...everything...well, not worth it exactly but at least a little easier. Hawke ruffled Fenris' fur one more time before turning his attention back to the objects on the table.

“Once upon a time there was a guy, a mechanic, that fell in love with a rich girl. Kind of like a Billie Joel song, right? Her car broke down and he picked her up with a tow truck. Brought her to the garage and worked on her car. They talked the whole time, laughed, fell in love. They met up for dates, very much against her family's wishes, and eventually they ran off together, after they found out she was pregnant. Things were scary for a while, especially since both had magic in their familial lines and the mechanic was a full fledged mage, but they stuck it out. They made it work. They were poor and her father was so determined to get her back that he sent men after them again and again, but they were happy together.

When the woman went into labour they had to have the baby at home, they couldn't afford the hospital. So they stayed in their little rented home and the man helped in whatever way he could. One of those ways was killing men that came to take her away just as she was pushing new life out into the world. But he almost failed, they almost won, until the man turned to the one thing that he thought could keep his new family safe. He turned to blood magic.”

Fenris huffed at that, always put off at the mention of blood magic. _He_ practised blood magic, Garrett continued, not drawing attention to it, the way Fenris preferred.

“The family continued on, the men stopped showing up, and they eventually settled in a little farming community where the man became the town mechanic and the woman worked at the local library. They had twins when their first child, a boy, was six. A boy and girl, one perpetually angry, the other bright as sunshine. The children were loved by everyone in the town and grew up relatively sheltered.

Of course the teenage years were different for the first child. He fell in with a bad crowd, one that drank and smoked, did drugs. One night, the group stole a car and drove to the next county to rob a convenience store. No one knew the boy's father would be there, coming back from buying parts for a repair. The man tried to stop the robbery and was shot. Not by his son but the boy saw it all. The man...died. And then he came back.”

Fenris shook himself, and Hawke could see that the werewolf was fighting not to pic up and run away. He loved that about him, that Fenris would fight his inner self to be there for him. Garrett continued, being sure not to draw attention to how the wolf still shook slightly.

“Because of the blood magic so many years before, the man came back as a vampire. He attacked the kids, mindlessly tore the others apart, then turned on the boy. He bit his son, drained him nearly dry. They lay there in the dirt, the man cradling the boy in his arms as the boy slowly died. And then the boy pulled up his arm and shot the man. In the chest. Point blank in the heart.”

Hawke paused here, choked up for a moment staring down at the three objects sitting on the table. A deep breath, another, and he continued on. “The man looked into the boys eyes, the light actually returning for just a moment, and whispered thank you before dying a second time.

The boy lay in the dirt outside a shitty convenience store for a long time, staring up at the stars as they went out, the blood of his dead father dripping all over him, dripping into his neck wounds, and felt the world slipping away. The boy didn't fight it, accepted it as his due for the shit he put his family through.

And then the stars got brighter again. Too bright, bright like the sun. Except there were millions of suns, all shining in the sky. And so many birds, calling out and bugs and night animals. So loud and beautiful. The boy was overwhelmed, cried harsh tears at the wonder of it.

Eventually he regained his composure and packed his father's body into the stolen car and took him home.”

Hawke paused again. This part of the story was too much, even for him. “I won't bore you with the horrible things that happened at home after that, but it wasn't long before the boy left to make his way in the world on his own. The problem was that, nothing was the same after that. Food tasted bland even with a ton of sauce or spice. People smelled enticing, like the boy could lick or bite their exposed skin. Everyday activities were boring, and the boy took risk after risk to feel alive.

It was a mage that eventually explained the problem to the boy, now a man after many years alone. The mage was unlike any mage he'd ever met before, a Dalish elf knowledgeable in many things and yet very naive about the way the world worked. Anyway, she told him that when a blood mage dies their soul moves on while the body continues, craving the blood they let in magic. Creation of a vampire without blood magic was extremely rare, though it was possible. The blood of the vampire introduced into the body of someone nearly drained but not yet dead, someone of the same blood, someone that killed the vampire with his own hands even as he was dying.”

Hawke closed his eyes, head down, taking a deep breath to calm his rapidly beating heart. “She was telling me that I was a vampire. But unlike a vamp created by blood magic, I never lost my soul. It was still there, clinging tenuously like a tendril of ivy. I was still human, as well as vampire. That night I went out to the local pub and found a guy that I knew was a real shit, a rapist of the worst kind. I followed him home that night, used my scent to make him want me and I killed him. Tasted blood for the first time. It was a kick, let me tell you.”

Hawke grinned when the wolf bared his fangs. “Yeah, I remember. No biting the werewolf, no matter how much he begs. It's okay, you know. I don't mind. Not even sure what were blood would do to me.” Fenris calmed and strode close once again, sliding his muzzle beneath Hawke's fingers. “So I'm a living vamp,” he continued after a long stretch to rub at the wolf's tender nasal area. “I never died and I have my soul.”

They sat like that in silence for a bit longer, until Fenris whined softly under his hand. Garrett looked down to see him staring at the table and the things placed upon it. “That stuff?” he said. “Well, it's anniversary day. These are the things that started me down this road. Even though they don't really taste as good as they used to, I'll light up a smoke, take a drink, and then stare at that damned gun for the rest of the night. It used to be that I was working up the courage to just shoot myself, you know?”

Fenris whined once again, louder, looking up at Garrett with concern, and Hawke smiled. “Don't worry, Love,” he said softly. “It's what I used to do, before I met you and Anders. The two of you, crazy as it sounds considering we're talking about a werewolf and a haunted mage, keep me grounded. You make me want to stick around, you know. Maybe see if there really is a future for somebody like me.”

Garrett laughed under the onslaught of canine tongue slavering along his cheek, his lap now filled with wriggling wolf. This, this right here, is why for the first time in over a decade Garrett Hawke did not put bullets in the gun.

 


End file.
